


Thank You

by Rueitae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 23:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17990348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: Pidge and Lance are on a high stress mission. Lance comforts/entertains Pidge by flirting with her.





	Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the beautiful work by [Flik](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/post/183200070830/rueitae-lance-comfortsentertains-pidge-by) that she drew for me! Please shower her with praise.

Ping. Another sentry down. A gasp for breath, difficult with the ambient air of the Galra base mixing with his armor’s supply, seeping in through the crack in his visor. Ping. Ping. Two more. Ping. The bay doors shut, but Galra sentries continue to bang at it from the other side and Lance can already hear them overriding the control panel. 

He needs to skedaddle. 

The red bayard energizes into his armor and Lance takes off running in the opposite direction. His legs are like jelly from all the sprinting he’s already done across the Galra base, and his lungs are on fire. Rest is not an option. Yet. 

He crosses the storage hall - past the broken quintessence containers and upturned metal crates. Purple food goo sticks to the wall and the torn packets lie scattered over the floor. 

Lance grins wolfishly as he reaches the staircase to the overseer’s balcony, a surge of pride wells up in his heart. He and Pidge have done a pretty epic job creating chaos from within. It’s just enough harmless damage that Lance hopes that in the likelihood they’re captured, similar courtesy will be extended to them.

The base commander is safely in the brig, the first officer is stuck in the messiest kitchen, and the rest of the crew is learning the lyrics to  _ We Will Rock You _ .

Because it’s on infinite loop over the base-wide comm system.

He takes the steps two at a time and slides to his knees upon reaching the top, popping the broken helmet off his head and letting it, and his hands, drop to the floor. Breathing in and out is all he does for at least a dobosh. Sitting never felt so good! If only he can melt into something - or someone - soft and warm. 

But Pidge has her back to him, hunched over three separate monitors, and makes no acknowledgement of his arrival. Her fingers race across them like a concert pianist, effortlessly managing to avoid the cracks in the screens. Somehow she’s gotten them all to function again, her hacker icon ticking away on one of them -  _ no surprise there _ , he thinks with pride. Pidge can do anything. 

Cables are strewn about the small overhang, connected to the longer of the two metal walls. Railings cover the other two, giving them a view of the only door from above. 

It’s not an ideal place to make a stand, the high ground makes it defensible enough - excellent for a sniper - but they have no out except through a flood of sentries. 

Lance takes a few more calming breaths before summoning his bayard and shifting to one knee, blocking Pidge from anyone’s view. This is where Pidge needs to get the information from, so defend it - and her - he will. 

He sets the scope of the sniper rifle squarely on the bay doors across the room. 

And waits. 

It’s too quiet. The room echoes with the sentries trying to force their entry, guitar riffs and iconic drum beats faint. Both Paladins breathe light. 

Lance adjusts the grip on his weapon. Fingers tap under the barrel. He can’t stand it. 

“Think they’ve got it memorized by now, Pidge?” He blurts with a chuckle, turning his head to see her reaction. “It’s got to have played a hundred times.”

Pidge shivers, but does not pause from her task. “Just a few more minutes, Lance,” she says tersely. “Just a few more and I’ll have everything sent to Hunk.” 

Lance thinks he can count the number of times Pidge has been stressed on one hand. Her voice is like a knife against a balloon, ready to burst at any moment. 

He turns his attention back to his own mission. It’s only a matter of time before someone flesh and blood lets the robots through to overcome them. Holding them off until she’s finished is critical. After that? Well, there hadn’t been time for a proper plan, but there  _ was _ a Marmora agent somewhere on the base. Maybe.

Pidge is breathing heavier and faster by the tic, and his heart breaks. They need this information for Matt, otherwise the trap he and his team are stuck in will spring, and it will be too late for the rest of the team to rescue him from Sendak’s forces. 

Lance licks his lips. Pidge needs to keep focused, but she also needs to be comforted. He wants to take her in his arms so badly, tell her how amazing she is and how she’s got this and Matt will be safe soon. 

But he can’t if he means to keep her safe. 

Well, he’s awesome and talented enough to take on two missions at once. His eyes can stay on the door, and he’ll comfort her with words. 

“You’re doing great, Pidge,” he starts. “I’ll personally make you and Matt milkshakes when we get back.”

No response. Good, just like a normal day in her lab. Lance grins. He can ramble with the best of them, and Pidge needs something familiar and comforting as background noise. 

“I used to hate milkshakes as a kid, you know - was never much for dairy anything, I preferred popsicles for a summer treat. But Kaltenecker’s milkshakes,” he moans in delight, “are perfect. Like they’re made from love.”

Lance isn’t sure if it’s his imagination, but Pidge seems to type even faster. It’s working! (As expected of his social genius.)

“I’ll take you to that arcade planet Coran was telling us about. There’s a high score on  _ Battlecruiser Assault _ that hasn’t been broken in ten deca-feebs.” Lance rolls his shoulders and preens, “Only ‘cause you and I haven’t had time to take a crack at it.”

“Matt could beat it with one hand behind his back,” Pidge says, breaking her silence but not her work. The dull tap of her gloved fingers on the monitors continue in earnest. 

Lance bites his lip as a louder bang comes from the doors. Through his scope, he sees large indentations. Those will weaken the integrity of the door, seems like they have less time than planned. “Matt’s going to be fine, Pidge. He has the best and brightest to save him.” He winks. Pidge can’t see him, but he hopes his confidence in her is received. 

“Fifty.”

Lance straightens up in surprise. “What?”

“It’s a two minute song. We’ve been here nearly one hundred doboshes, so it’s probably played about fifty times,” Pidge explains. 

A stupid grin tugs on his face, heart uplifted, and relieved to hear her playing along. 

“I’m so close,” she continues frantically, and must be holding back tears. “This has to be the last encryption - I’ve already got access to so many top secret projects, Sendak’s plan  _ has _ to be in here. Matt is depending on me and if this isn’t the right base then we’ll never know what planet he’s been taken to and I’ll get us captured for  _ nothing _ and - “

“Pidge,” he interrupts calmly. “It’s going to be okay. You’re the smartest and bravest of us all. And,” he gazes back to catch her in his peripheral, “We’re - I’m lucky to have you.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” she stutters. Her hands shake. “It’s here,” she breathes in relief. “Sending it to the Atlas now.”

“See? You’re outstanding Pidge. Matt’s going to be fine. Shiro will make sure of that.” His trigger finger twitches. The sentries have managed to crack it open manually. In a few tics it’ll be wide enough for them to fit through. 

“I know,” she responds. “Let me get the blast door shut. It’ll buy us some more time to escape.”

Lance hums and takes the first sentry down with a headshot. “Escape where? They’re already through, Pidge. Lurk in the vents. I’ll be counting on a rescue.”

Fingers tap away furiously. “I’m not leaving you to them. Not after what you did to the commander.”

“What, you don’t think he likes his new hair cut?” Lance smirks as he pops off two more sentries, and then a third that made it a few steps into the room. “I think the new bald spot is a fashion statement. Get in the vents, Pidge.” 

The doors spring open and waves of sentries run into the open space. Lance fires in quick succession (and unintentionally in time with the music, clap clap stomp), hitting too many to count. He can’t keep up. Soon he’ll have to focus on the stairs as a chokepoint and once overwhelmed…

Hopefully Galra prison food is halfway decent.

“I already rescued you that way once. Let me have some variety,” Pidge says smugly. Gears crack to life above them. In a loud crash a thick grey wall comes crashing down, crushing dozens of sentries and prevent more from reaching them. 

Lance takes care of the stranglers left on their side, much easier to do when he’s not overwhelmed. He turns his head. “I love you so much,” he declares. 

Pidge turns her head to face him, her hacking programs still running strong on all screens. Sweat drips from her temples, face flush. Her tired smile and wistful eyes proving she’s been equally flustered by the intense work and his words, and charmed as well. “Not too shabby yourself, Sharpshooter,” she teases. Heat rushes into his own cheeks, heart equally warmed by her response. “Thank you for coming with and keeping me company,” she continues. “I wouldn’t have been able to make it this far without you.”

An eyebrow rises. “Are you...flirting with me on a mission?” 

A coy smile is the last he sees before she goes back to her program, ending it. “And you weren’t?”

“Well, yeah,” he says. “But that’s my _ job _ .” 

“I’m pretty sure flirting is for both sides of the coin,” she quips. The monitors shut down, going black. Pidge summons her bayard and holds out a hand. “Ready to go?”

Lance dismisses his own, stomach sinking as he follows her eyes up. “You’re kidding,” he hopes. 

“Just don’t let go,” she advises. 

He wraps his arms over her shoulder and under her other arm, holding on tightly. “I hate this part,” he groans. The grappling hook of the green bayard shoots straight upward, for several tics, catching and holding fast to the vent opening above them. 

“Ready?” Pidge asks. 

_ No _ , Lance says to himself. “You know I love cuddling with you, but,” he tightens his grip and knits his eyes shut, “let’s get this one over with.”

Soft lips meet his own and Pidge’s gauntlets brush against his ears, boxing his face in. It’s calming, and as he melts into the kiss he hears the Red Lion’s soft rumble of impatience. 

“More later, after Matt’s safe and after the arcade,” Pidge promises. 

“...maybe a kiss after we’re safe in Red? You know, after mission reward?” Lance bargains hopefully. 

Pidge makes a show of thinking about it. “Hmmm, well, you  _ were _ pretty awesome today. I’ll do you one better, you deserve it for being a good boyfriend and teammate today.”

Its automatic to lean in when she puckers her lips, but she guides the back of his head towards her anyway. Lance lets his shoulders slump and relax, digging his fingers into her armor, secure. 

Then he’s weightless, feet off the ground and screaming through her mouth, careening up towards the vent.

Red roars in his mind. All at once the vents open up to the outside, and Pidge’s bayard flings them into the waiting mouth of the Lion.

They land apart from each other. Red gives Lance a vague image of the Atlas, their probable destination.

“Good kitty,” Pidge says as she pats the inside of its mouth. She smirks in his direction, casually resting an arm on her propped up knee. “You too, Lance.” A beep from her gauntlet signals the opening of a holographic map. She grins. “They’ve already found him. Matt’s going to be okay,” she says, sighing in relief. 

Which means he can be petty for a bit. “Urgh,” he moans. “Next time I get to pick the exit strategy, okay?”

The Red Lion shakes in disapproval. 

“He doesn’t mean it, Red,” Pidge assures it. “You were fantastic too.”

“Hey, don’t gang up on me with my own Lion,” he squawks indignantly. 

Pidge laughs as she sits beside him. He continues to pout, arms crossed in defiance even as she plants a kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

He melts as she leans into him, heat flooding his face. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbles. 

“Yeah, I am pretty cute,” Pidge says, nudging his arm with her body. “And so are you.”

Lance decides that maybe Red can do the flying back to the Atlas on its own, especially since he’s finally got his warm someone to lean into and cuddle with.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/).


End file.
